Greens, Blues and Reds
by HalfASlug
Summary: It's Bonfire Night and Ellie is stuck at work.


_A/N: I wrote this purely to spread my love of Bonfire Night. Chibnal and ITV own the rest._

* * *

It was difficult to concentrate on her computer with the near constant noise outside of her office, but Ellie was ploughing through it regardless. She hated not being able to spend Bonfire Night with her sons - especially with this being the first year Fred would understand what was happening - but it was to be expected with her job. It was bad enough when she was a DS, but her recent, surprising and long over-due promotion to DI meant she had no chance of avoiding overtime.

With the rest of CID almost empty, she had an almost clear view of the window opposite her office. The annual fireworks display had just started up and it only made the budget reports she was only halfway through less interesting. She hadn't even noticed that her attention had drifted to the bright lights and bangs until her phone buzzed with a message from Lucy. She opened it and watched the video of Fred, grinning like a maniac, his eyes wide as saucers. His face was turned upwards and bathed in greens, blues and reds.

Smiling sadly, she put her phone down and read through the previous line she'd typed. At least she had modern technology so she didn't completely miss those moments. She'd just thought of what to type next when her phone buzzed again. This time it was a selfie of Tom, gurning next to the bonfire.

Ellie leant back in her chair and sighed. She was more than tempted to curl up on the sofa on the other side of her desk with a cup of tea and watch the rest of the display. Unfortunately, she operated an open door policy. It usually helped, hearing the hubbub of her colleagues, but tonight it meant the few still milling about would she her slacking off.

Of course, she could've done what one of the previous occupants of the office had done and closed the door and blinds, but she wasn't an unsociable misery.

Thinking of said unsociable misery only made her check her phone. There were no new messages, but underneath the time and app logos was a picture of Fred asleep on Hardy's chest. The image made her heart ache and she dropped her phone on the desk again.

A difficult case for him and her increased workload meant they hadn't seen each other in three weeks. They both understood, being in the same boat themselves, but it didn't make it any easier. Ellie had thought a year on her own would've prepared her for this situation. Instead she found it was different when there was someone she missed. Phone calls and texts helped, though nothing could really compare to actually being wrapped in his arms and breathing in the scent.

She'd reached for her phone before she'd realised what she was doing.

 _Enjoying the fireworks? x_

She sent the message and went back to work, not expecting a fast reply as she knew he was working as well that evening. It was a pleasant surprise when her phone lit up before she'd even found her place on the report.

 _no_

Ellie grinned as she typed back.

 _Should have known you wouldn't like more colour in the world LOL x_

 _They are explosives. We put explosives in the hands of idiots. Every year._

 _Pretty explosives though x_

 _Tell that to those in casualty_

 _What did fireworks ever do to you? x_

 _nothing_

 _"when I was a wee bairn a firework flew right at mah bawbag and I could nae play fitba"_

 _Stop doing that_

Not intimidated in the slightest, Ellie sucked her lips into her mouth to stop herself laughing and started on her reply when another text came through.

 _You know for a fact that didn't happen_

She stared at her phone for a moment, the fireworks outside not even denting her concentration, and tried to process what she was seeing. With Hardy it was sometimes difficult to tell if he was joking or being deadly serious. It had been on their fourth date that she had told him he didn't have to give her flowers every time. She'd then spent ten minutes explaining that she _did_ like the flowers he'd bought her, she just didn't _need_ them and was running out of vases.

He'd arrived at their fifth date with chocolates and wine instead.

The sixth had been another bouquet and a vase.

It was eventually revealed that his mother had raised him to never show up to dates or dinners empty handed. Somehow this had become a basic fact of life for him and anything that contradicted it confused the hell out of him.

It was one of the many things she'd learnt about Alec Hardy as she gradually peeled layer after bizarre layer away from his grouchy exterior. In his mind there were some things you just _did_ , regardless of how much you wanted to, such as buying gifts and protecting your wife and child.

Ellie regarded the message again and decided, after three weeks without, even if he hadn't intended the exchange to become dirty then she was going to bloody well make it so anyway.

 _Don't I just ;) x_

Despite being on her own, she felt her cheeks growing warm and went back to her work, as she needed to somehow make up for what she'd just done. However misplaced her guilt, it didn't stop her eyes flicking back to her phone every couple of seconds in case she'd somehow missed her text tone.

After five minutes, she had actually managed to make some progress with her report and was becoming gradually more pissed off. Realistically she knew he could have been working, but she had decided he was really staring at his phone, either attempting to compose a poem for her with only office stationary to inspire him, or was having the same debate she'd had and was finding it a greater struggle.

When the reply eventually came through ten minutes later, she wasn't shocked to discover it had probably been the latter.

 _Are we sexting now?_

With a sense of recklessness, she elected to forego an explanation and just dive straight in. Drawing on her limited experiences of romance novels and her memories of the last time she'd seen Hardy, Ellie began a message she prayed no one else would ever see.

However, while she was stuck thinking of a synonym for part of Hardy she was sure had never been horribly burnt by a firework, she was interrupted by her text tone. Out of nervousness, she clicked the message without thinking and a photo of Fred with a sparkler filled her screen.

"Aww," she said and replied with a smiley face.

She clicked back to the draft she'd been writing but couldn't get the image of her youngest out of her mind.

Giving up, she pocketed her phone, made tea for herself and everyone else left in the office and headed outside to the balcony. She cradled the chipped mug in her hands and watched the fireworks. From outside she could distantly hear the classical music that was accompanying the display, though the effect was being ruined by the various rogue explosions coming from people's back gardens. Down on the street, the smoke was so thick she could only really make out the lamp posts. The whole thing reminded her of creepy Victorian dramas and she half expected to see Jack the Ripper's silhouette hurrying through the night.

When her hands had warmed up nicely, she retrieved her phone and dialled Hardy. He picked up almost straight away.

"Hello?"

Ellie smiled. It had been a couple of months since she had been granted it, but she still enjoyed the privilege of being one of only two people who wasn't greeted with a "what?" on the phone.

"What's wrong with fireworks?"

"What happened to the -" He dropped his voice. "- you know…"

Feeling silly, Ellie double checked there was no one around her. "I'm at work. And there was a photograph of my children right next to me."

"Got to say I'm a bit relieved. I think I'm a bit old to start doing… that."

"I was going to suggest later…" Ellie trailed off, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"I suppose I could be persuaded."

As she was about to make a comment about her powers of persuasion, there was a huge boom, followed by a fizzle.

"Was that your end?"

"Bloody was," spat Hardy. "Sick of the bastard things."

"Busy night?"

"Do you know how many calls we've had about gunshots? Eight. _Eight_ people who are old enough to operate a phone yet have failed to grasp the concept of Bonfire Night."

Ellie sipped her tea. "There was a wheelie bin set on fire on Browning Street. Couple of noise complaints. Nothing uniform can't handle."

"Lucky you. Meanwhile I've got to go through these wankers to see if any of them is genuine because of that shooting last week."

"Yep. Lucky me. Left with nothing but paperwork. Nice view though. I can see the display and everything."

She heard his huff and stifled a chuckle.

"Don't tell me you're enjoying this."

"What? They're nice. And you get to wrap up all warm and eat toffee apples." Ellie scrunched her nose up and thought how hyper Fred was likely to be if Lucy let him have any candy floss. "Tom used to love it growing up."

There was no way of being sure, but she was fairly certain Hardy growled. "A man gets tortured for days and then executed horribly and you all decide to celebrate for the next four hundred years! It's heinous!"

Ellie shrugged. "The hundreds of people who weren't blown up are probably something to celebrate."

"Yeah, hundreds of pompous politicians, lording it over everyone else. It's so typical of the English to-"

"Wasn't the King Scottish?"

"Was he? Hang on." There was the noise of a keyboard being all but attacked followed by a pause. "That's not important. The point is our society is taking enjoyment from inhumane acts that have long since been abolished. Children are celebrating a man being literally _torn apart_ with - with _sparklers!_ And don't get me started on fireworks. Arseholes set them off in public and throw them homeless people! You can't show packets of cigarettes but glittery bombs are advertised left, right and centre and-"

Ellie listened to him rant as she watched the fireworks. She was starting to get cold, although there was a waft of smoke that reminded her of huddling up to a bonfire just enough to warm her from the inside out. Besides, there was something comforting about hearing Hardy go off at the world.

It seemed crazy to her, how he questioned everything and thought even some of the most basic elements of society were some kind of trick or conspiracy and everyone else was insane for going along with it. However, she'd noticed that he rarely expressed these views to strangers, unless he was supremely uncomfortable and felt he needed to pad out a silence.

With her, on the other hand, he shared every little grievance he had with the world he was apparently so cruelly born into. Ellie didn't mind. Not only did it seem to make him happy, but it made her smile to think how, out of everything, she was one of the few things he truly loved.

"You're not even listening, are you?" she heard him say.

Blinking, Ellie turned away from the fireworks she'd been focussing on. "Sorry."

In the reflection of the window she was now facing, Ellie could still see the display continuing, as well as the distorted image of her own face. By the looks of things there were only two other officers left in CID. It did nothing to stop the familiar bite of loneliness, spreading through her.

"We should probably get back to work," Hardy sighed.

"Yeah." As she agreed, she heard fireworks going off, though she couldn't tell if they were in Broadchurch or coming through the tiny speaker pressed to her ear. She closed her eyes and listened to them, mixing with Hardy's breathing, and pretended they were together, sharing the same space. "Hardy? I miss you," she admitted quietly.

"Miss you, too, Ellie."

It wasn't just his reply or the soft voice in which he said it, but the rare treat of hearing him say her first name, that made her want to cry. It wasn't just the length of time they'd gone without each other that was getting to her; it was how it felt they were missing out on things they both deserved to experience. Other families got to enjoy little things like Bonfire Night together, while her children were with her sister and her… Hardy was in a different county.

There was no way she could tell him how strongly she hated their arrangement some days. After years of nearly killing himself, he was getting his career back on track and Daisy was around again. She couldn't ask him to leave all of that just because she wanted to wake up with him every morning and fight over who did the washing up and cuddle up on the sofa on rainy Wednesday nights and just be happy, dysfunctional and normal.

She'd considered leaving Broadchurch for all of three seconds the previous week. That idea was quickly squashed when she remembered how the boys were settled, it was her home and how leaving, even after nearly two years, felt like Joe would be winning.

"I've been thinking," Hardy said, interrupting her musings. "About, er, Daisy. She'll be leaving school in a couple of years. Off to uni, maybe."

"Still a few years away from that," Ellie replied, confused by his non sequitur. "Why are you thinking about that now?"

Hardy coughed. "Well… She's growing up and might be moving away and - I mean, I never planned to stay in my flat long term. Thought I might move closer to work. Bit further south."

There was a bang that sounded more like a cannon than a firework, though it barely registered to Ellie.

"A bit further south?"

"Aye." The tension in his voice was becoming more pronounced.

"I know someone who's looking for a lodger," she said as casually as she could.

"Oh."

Ellie heard his disappointment though he tried to hide it and waited a breath before speaking again in the same nonchalant tone.

"They don't have a spare room, but there's a double bed. If she sleeps all curled up then I suppose breakfasts won't be too awkward."

She bit her lip and waited.

"Is this place in Dorset by any chance?"

"It is."

"Huh. I was thinking about moving there."

"Were you now?"

"Yeah, I just need to check that this friend of yours is good looking and then-"

"Twat."

Hardy chuckled softly, barely more than a quick expulsion of air, and she could see his expression perfectly in her mind's eye. Everything from his dimples to his untidy hair and rumpled shirt covering the arms he probably had crossed on his desk as he leant on them. Her sense of longing piqued and it was almost painful.

So far he'd taken every big step in their relationship, partly because she'd been too scared; Not just of what others might think or how Tom and Fred would deal with it, but of whether she could cope with having her heart broken again. Through sheer determination alone she'd got through the last year and a half in one piece, but she still feared there wasn't enough left of her to break.

She remembered the night she'd let her old boss walk away with nothing but a smile. She remembered the time she'd been called out to a fight at a pub, saw that the sweet paramedic was there and still couldn't find the words to ask him if he wanted to get a drink sometime.

On the other end of the line she heard Hardy breathing. If she closed her eyes, she didn't have to feel so alone.

For some reason, taking a risk didn't seem so daunting.

"Miller? Still there?"

In fact, it didn't seem like a risk in the first place.

"Move in with me."

A heartbeat. A far-off crackle. The words merging with the foggy air and hanging over Broadchurch.

"Don't I get a choice?"

"No."

"I guess I -"

A door opened and Ellie jumped, only to realise it had been the door to Hardy's office.

"Sir, there's - oh, sorry," she heard an unfamiliar voice say. "It's just one of the firework nutters wasn't a firework. Witness says it was Johnson."

"Fan-bloody-tastic," cried Hardy away from the speaker. "Oh, I - wait." There was a shuffling noise. "Yes, DI Miller," he continued, his professional gruffness catching her off guard. "That would be - ah - acceptable."

Pushing his response aside for the moment, she smirked. "Been caught having a personal call, sir?"

"We can discuss it later." He cleared his throat.

"I ought to tell your superior."

"They'll be no need for that."

Before he could hang up, the intense giddiness that was building in her stomach swelled and she couldn't resist adopting the voice she usually only used around baby Lizzie. "I wuv you, scruffy muffin."

" _What?_ " Hardy blurted out before he remembered his charade. "I mean, yes. You, too. Bye."

He'd sounded so disgusted and flustered that Ellie couldn't help giggling as she stowed her phone away in her pocket. She leant over the railing and smiled out across the town. He'd phone her after work and try to be angry about her teasing, but she knew it wouldn't last.

She was already planning on using the endearment _scruffy muffin_ enough that he'd one day answer to it. Possibly in public.

"Er - ma'am?" called a voice from behind her. Ellie spun around and saw one of the DCs lingering by the door onto the balcony like they were trying to blend into the wall. "There's reports of an arson at the cash and carry on Eliot Road."

Their eyes met and Ellie knew the last part of her phone call had been overheard.

"Right," she said brightly, vowing never to mention that part of the story to Hardy or anyone else. Ever.

She followed her colleague back into the station, hoping her blush could be blamed on a stray red firework.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading!_


End file.
